


but you have got my favorite face

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, always-a-girl!Jason, whole lotta trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bruce," she says. "Aren't you going to ask me what I <em>want</em> to do?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	but you have got my favorite face

Bruce feels Jay watching him for a while before he looks up. He's been in the study most of the day, a dozen different books piled around him and the blinds open to let in just enough light. When he looks up, Jay's standing in the doorway, absently scratching at a scab on her leg.

"What is it, Jay?" he asks.

"Nothing," Jay says, but she steps into the study, bare feet sinking into the carpet as she moves toward Bruce's armchair. She's not dressed warmly enough – it's nearly October, but she's wearing a tank top that's all but see through, shorts so tiny she must have cut them into daisy dukes herself.

"Nothing?" Bruce asks. He worries about her sometimes – constantly. She's getting more violent on patrols, less prone to _Robin's_ way of doing things than, well, _Batman's_.

"It's just," Jay says. She sits on the arm of Bruce's chair and puts her feet in Bruce's lap. Bruce takes a deep breath. "I'm so _bored_."

"Ah," Bruce says. "Shouldn't you be doing – homework, or –"

The heel of Jay's foot is between Bruce's legs, pressing softly _up_ and she says, "It's Saturday, silly."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. "I find it difficult to believe that _none_ of your teachers assign work over the weekend."

"Well, they _do_ ," Jay agrees. "But that's not what I feel like _doing._ "

Bruce's mouth goes dry. He knows he's supposed to ask, hopes if he doesn't she'll stop, turn back out of the study. They can't keep _doing_ this. They can't –

"Bruce," she says. "Aren't you going to ask me what I _want_ to do?"

He shuts his eyes, which turns out to be a mistake, because then Jay is _in_ his lap, and she's kissing him wet and open-mouthed, smearing his mouth with vanilla chapstick. He puts his hand up to stop her, but his body betrays him and instead, he drags his hand through her long dark hair and presses her closer to him until her breasts brush his chest.

When he opens his eyes, she's beaming down at him like she's ready to eat him alive, and the thing of it is Bruce would be fine with that, would do - anything.

It's that, and weakness, that keeps him from stopping her when she reaches for his fly, pulls his cock out of his boxers and grips it tightly. Then she balances herself on the chair while she pulls her shorts down, and Bruce _swears_ he's spent enough money on clothes that Jay should own _some_ underwear, but –

"Bruce," Jay says. She takes one of his hands in hers and brings it to her pussy. "Will you?" she asks. "Please?"

It's the _please_ that kills him. Jay can be demanding, more demanding than anyone Bruce has ever known, maybe, but when she really wants something - _needs_ something –

"Yes," he says. She's already wet when he slides two fingers into her, so warm and tight around him. She squeezes Bruce's hand, then puts one of hers on his shoulder for leverage, gets the other in his hair so she can pull him in for another kiss.

"God," she breathes out against his lips. Her lashes brush his cheeks; her hair falls forward like a curtain over both of them. "You're so good to me, Bruce, I – oh. Oh _fuck_ ," she says when Bruce gets his fingers deeper, hitting her g-spot as his thumb brushes over her clit.

"Watch your mouth," Bruce admonishes, and Jay giggles, blue eyes sparkling with it. "I _would_ tell _you_ to watch _mine_ , but – I've got other plans."

She tilts her body back to the floor, Bruce's fingers still inside of her, his other hand on her hip while she reaches for her shorts. When she swings herself back up, she holds a condom out to Bruce, a silent question in her eyes.

"Jay," Bruce says. "Are you –"

"B," Jay says. She grinds down on his fingers, tears open the condom and rolls it over his cock. "If you really have to ask, maybe you don't love me as much as you always _say_ you do."

And that's just not playing _fair_. She knows he's crazy about her, knows he'd die just to touch her sometimes. She smirks at him, and Bruce pulls his fingers out of her, gets both hands on her hips and lifts her up. "Fuck," Jay says again, and then he's lowering her onto his cock; he tries to take it slow, but she pushes down onto him until he's all the way inside of her.

She throws her head back, crying out sharply, and for a second Bruce is terrified that he's hurt her, starts to pull her back off of him, but she digs her nails into his wrists to stop him, stares him straight in the eye and comes just from the fullness of his cock inside of her.

Jay takes deep, ragged breaths as she recovers from it and Bruce holds her through it, kisses her cheeks, her forehead, the space between her breasts. Then she pushes her tank top down, gets both her hands on Bruce's shoulders, and together they start to move.

It's unbearable. It's _perfect_ , everything Bruce isn't supposed to want, isn't supposed to _need_ so much. Jay's dark, curly hair sways along her back with each rock of her hips, and each time Bruce pulls her in for a kiss he grabs handfuls of it, twists it around his fingers.

He kisses down Jay's chest and she holds his head to her breasts, fingers gripping the back of his neck as he sucks on her nipples. Then she drags his head back, looks him in the eye again and says, "Bruce. _Fuck_ me," and he can't deny her anything, wouldn't know how to start, so he thrusts up into her as she rides him, squeezes him between her so tightly his vision blurs.

"Jay," he says. The door to the study is closed, not locked, and anyone could come in, anyone could _hear_ them, but that doesn't stop the way she moans for him, doesn't stop the way he buries his face in her breasts and _whimpers_. He takes one hand off her hip to thumb her clit while she starts to ride him even faster, nails slicing into his shoulders and everything she is stabbing him right in the chest.

Every inch of her shakes when she comes, but she doesn't stop, doesn't _stop_ just says, "Harder, Bruce, come _on_ ," and he bends her back, lifts them both out of the chair and fucks her straight down to the carpet until he comes so hard he doesn't even know where he _is_.

He pulls out of her slowly, and he can't tell which one of them whines louder at the loss. He tosses the condom in the wastebasket, then lifts her back up, sits back down in the chair with her on his lap. She throws her feet over the arm of the chair, rests her head on Bruce's shoulder.

"Well," she says. "That killed some time."

Bruce chokes out a laugh, his hand absently stroking her side, the spot near her ribs where a bullet grazed her not so long ago. "You really should do your homework, you know," he says.

"Mm, maybe," Jay agrees. She mouths at his shoulder through his t-shirt, licks at stripe up his neck and then grins. "You wanna be my study buddy?"

Bruce sighs. She's going to be the _death_ of him.


End file.
